My Heart's A Drummer
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Ma Soo Min likes conductors. Lee Yoon Hoo admires the unconventional. They've both had their hearts broken, but maybe finding someone new is not quite impossible after all? Slash. Trigger warning: bullying, homophobia.


My Heart's A Drummer

By Laura Schiller

Based on: _Nae Il's Cantabile_

Copyright: Tomoko Kinomiya/KBS2 Network

Lee Yoon Hoo didn't intend to eavesdrop. At least, not at first.

He was on his way to Mendelssohn's when he overheard some of his fellow Rising Star members sitting at one of the outside tables, gossiping. He often heard them before he saw them, they were so loud.

He was just about to round the corner when Ma Soo Min's excitable tenor rose above the laughter of the others. What he was saying stopped Yoon Hoo in his tracks.

"Guys, guys! Don't you think Yoon Hoo-sunbae's kind of sexy when he conducts?"

More laughter followed, especially from the girls.

"You're only noticing this now _?_ " said Min Hee with flat disbelief.

"You have a thing for conductors, don't you?" said Il Rak, snorting. "First Yoo Jin, now this."

"No, but seriously!" There was a tapping sound, as if Soo Min had used one of his ever-present timpani mallets on the table for emphasis. "He's different. Almighty Cha always used to conduct like our lives depended on it. Yoon Hoo-sunbae's … more subtle, somehow. More graceful. It's like a dance." His voice took on a dreamy quality and trailed off into silence.

A dance? Yoon Hoo found himself blushing. He looked down at his hands, especially his left one, which was still unsteady when he forgot to rest it. He worked so hard to project an image of grace, like a ballet dancer with bleeding feet inside her pointe shoes. It was unexpectedly touching to hear that someone had noticed.

"Aww!" said Min Hee. "You're all starry-eyed." There was the scrape of a chair against concrete and a rustle of fabric, as if she'd moved over to give Soo Min a hug.

Yoon Hoo ordered himself to move, before he heard anything even more revealing. He prayed that no one would notice how he was blushing, or if they did, attribute it to a fast walk.

"Hello, everyone!" he called, more loudly than necessary. "Excuse me for being late, I had a chat with the Dean about our next concert."

"No problem, dude," said Il Rak. "We already ordered your steak for you."

"Have a seat, sunbae," said Soo Min, smiling warmly, indicating the free chair next to him with a dainty twist of the hand.

 _He moves like a girl,_ thought Yoon Hoo, not for the first time. But his next thoughts surprised him. _Does he do it on purpose, or is it natural? Does he work as hard at keeping up that image as I do mine?_

/

Yoon Hoo had never noticed Soo Min before. Only as a decent, if overenthusiastic, timpani player, and as one of many people whose attention he wanted to pry away from Yoo Jin.

But as much as we try to deny it, we often tend to have a higher opinion of people who like us. Slowly, as the weeks passed and the autumn days grew cooler, Yoon Hoo found himself noticing more and more.

Soo Min after a successful concert, jumping up and down, high-fiving Min Hee when the little contrabassist might otherwise have been overlooked in the confusion. Soo Min blushing when a crumpled pencil sketch fell out of his backpack, saying "it's nothing", even though the drawing of them all rehearsing was lovely and true to life. Soo Min at the timpani, sleeves and hair flying in a hurricane of sound, making mistakes but never making the same one twice. Soo Min with his mallets held up by his ears, shivering with alertness as he listened to Yoon Hoo's directions during rehearsal. Soo Min in the hallway, flattening himself against the wall, while three upperclassmen laughed raucously as they passed.

But Yoon Hoo told himself there was nothing romantic about it. He was straight, after all.

Wasn't he?

He'd dated women before. He knew how to charm them. And he had loved Seol Nae Il, without a doubt. Still did, sometimes. Odd things reminded him of her: melodeons, a flash of auburn hair, the _Sicilienne_ , the smell of chlorine at a public pool, cartoon animals, the food at Mendelssohn's, the sound of a woman's laughter. But with her and Yoo Jin on the opposite side of the continent, that loss was growing easier to live with every day.

Besides, he had to wonder if part of the intensity of his feelings wasn't due to his rivalry with Yoo Jin.

He could never forget the moment Yoo Jin had packed him off to hospital instead of letting him play cello with his damaged hand. Yoon Hoo had hated him more in that moment than he'd ever hated anyone before, knowing that every scornful thing Yoo Jin said was true. _If you really loved music, you wouldn't give up. You're just running away._

He'd grabbed the lapels of Yoo Jin's jacket, not even knowing what he planned to do next. And his rival, his enemy, had brushed away his aching hand with a gentleness quite out of keeping with the situation.

Out of pity for his injury, of course, nothing more. But even pity had thrown Yoon Hoo for a loop.

That was the most infuriating thing about Cha Yoo Jin. The fact that you could never hate him completely, no matter how borderline inhuman he might be, because he kept surprising you with the strangest acts of kindness.

Yoon Hoo didn't love the man, not like he loved Nae Il. But damn it if there hadn't been a spark there, after all.

 _All right, Lee Yoon Hoo,_ he thought one night, staring at himself in the mirror. _So maybe you're not one hundred percent straight after all. What are you going to do about it?_

Nothing – yet. His life was complicated enough as it was.

/

It was the incident with the headband that tipped Yoon Hoo over the edge.

Classes were already out for the day, but in a fit of absent-mindedness (he was having rather more of those lately than usual), he'd forgotten his sheet music in the rehearsal room and was going back for it.

He didn't expect to find three schoolmates surrounding Soo Min in the corridor, playing keep-away with his red and white snowflake-patterned headband.

"Give that back, you guys!" Soo Min made a grab for it, but one of the men got there first, and shoved Soo Min away.

"Give that back!" he mimicked, in a grating falsetto that no self-respecting music student should have allowed to pass his lips.

Yoon Hoo tensed. He hated open conflict. He much preferred to fight his battles secretly. But he had the strangest urge to burst in there like an action hero, kick those idiots' teeth in, catch hold of Soo Min's arm and ….

"Oh, like I haven't heard _that_ before." Soo Min's voice trembled underneath the sarcasm. "We'll see who's laughing once Rising Star gets its first record contract."

"You losers won't last out a day after graduation," said the second bully.

"But just to be safe, let's see if you can still hold a drumstick with two broken wrists," said the third.

"Still so original," said Soo Min, tossing his curly head. "Well, okay then, get it over with. I'm bored."

He went into a defensive position, knees bent, arms up. It looked surprisingly well practiced; perhaps he went to martial arts classes. Yoon Hoo was almost tempted to stay back and see how the scene played out. But no.

He stepped forward, letting his boots echo on the tiles so that all four of them turned to look at him.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" he said in his conductor's voice, the one that could silence an entire roomful of noisy orchestra members at once.

Soo Min went out of his defensive posture at once and snapped to attention, like a cadet in front of his sergeant. The three bullies spread themselves out, trying to look casual and failing utterly.

"Nope!" One of them slung an arm around Soo Min's shoulders, only to be shrugged off and favored with a poisonous glare. "Just having fun."

"I hope so," said Yoon Hoo, keeping his voice perfectly even, and his hands in his pockets so no one could see that they were trembling. "Because if you weren't, you know the Dean would have to hear about it. And you wouldn't want that, so close to the end of the semester, would you?"

"Dunno what you're talking about," said the second bully, widening his eyes.

"Catch ya later, Soo Min-ah!" The third one tossed the headband into Soo Min's face, and all three of them beat a not quite dignified retreat.

As soon as they were gone, Soo Min crumpled. He replaced his headband with shaky hands and let out a sigh that was almost a sob.

"Well," he said, his tenor voice ringing with artificial cheer. "That was more excitement than I prefer this late in the day. I could have handled them, you know."

"You're welcome," said Yoon Hoo.

"Thanks." Soo Min's tone was decidedly ungrateful as he hitched up his backpack and headed down the hall.

 _Damn._ Yoon Hoo could have bitten his tongue for saying the wrong thing. He wasn't usually this tactless. Didn't he know from personal experience how much it stung to owe someone a favor?

"I know you could've handled them," he said, hurrying to come alongside Soo Min. "It's just – your hands are important. And for that matter, so is the rest of you." _God, that came out wrong._ "As your conductor, I thought it was my duty to step in."

Soo Min rolled his eyes. "Never mind, sunbae. I know you all think I'm weak. That I don't count as a real man. No need to tiptoe around it."

He shouldered his way through the front entrance more roughly than usual, refusing to hold it open for Yoon Hoo so that the doors almost slammed in his face.

They burst out into a blaze of rare December sunshine, cold and clear, yesterday's raindrops still sparkling as icicles on the branches of every tree. But Yoon Hoo, normally so alive to beauty, could see nothing except the back of Soo Min's cherry-red coat.

"Ma Soo Min, slow down and look at me. You're one of the strongest people I've ever known in my life!"

Soo Min swung around. His breath steamed up the air. There were tears drying on his cheeks.

"What – me?"

"Yes, you. You realize, don't you, how much easier your life could be if you made an effort to blend in? If you wore dark colors, got rid of the headbands, stopped moving your hands the way you do, spoke with a deeper voice?"

"But how could I do that?" Soo Min recoiled. "None of those things are _me!"_

"Exactly. You just keep on being yourself, even in a world that rejects you. Almost nobody does that. _I_ don't do that. Never tell me you're not strong."

"Sunbae … " Soo Min's eyes went round, as if he were considering something for the first time. "Are you … do you have a secret?"

"I almost lost the use of my hand last year," said Yoon Hoo, all in a rush. "I got hurt, but then I postponed having surgery too long, because I knew I'd have to give up the cello. Only Cha Yoo Jin and Seol Nae Il knew that, and it's because they wouldn't leave me alone. I didn't want anyone's pity, so I kept it all a secret. But Yoo Jin saved me. He outright ordered me to go to the hospital."

"Oh." Soo Min nodded slowly, with a thoughtful little smile. "Yes … that does sound like something Almighty Cha would do."

"Also, I'm bi." It was an unexpected relief to say it. "And you're the only one who knows that so far."

"Oh. Okay." Soo Min's blush was almost as bright as his headband. "That's … um … thank you. For telling me."

He took a deep breath as if to brace himself for some trial of courage, then darted forward and caught Yoon Hoo's left hand in both of his. Too startled to protest even if he wanted to (which he did not), Yoon Hoo only let out a nervous laugh.

"It's this hand, isn't it?" said Soo Min.

"How do you know?"

"You don't use it as much when you're conducting." Soo Min rubbed Yoon Hoo's fingers and blew on them gently. "Does it hurt in the cold?"

"Sometimes."

Soo Min fished a pair of fuzzy mittens out of his coat pockets. They were cherry red and patterned with snowflakes to match his headband, and not at all suitable for Yoon Hoo's sober black trenchcoat.

"They're only a loan, mind you," he said, smiling. "Organic material is expensive."

Yoon Hoo pulled them on with a smile, and felt warm in more places than his hands.

/

But that was where it stayed. With gloves.

Yoon Hoo gave them back the next morning, and they continued as colleagues for the next few months. A little closer perhaps, a little more awkward. He had to concentrate hard during rehearsals so as not to go too easy with his conductor's criticisms. Judging by the anxious look on Soo Min's face, he probably went the opposite extreme sometimes.

He couldn't understand it. His mind raced.

Maybe Soo Min wasn't interested. Maybe he couldn't get over his "Almighty Cha". His continued use of the honorific seemed to indicate that. Or maybe he _was_ interested, but too scared to have a relationship, considering what people did to him just for being who he was. Or maybe Yoon Hoo himself had spoiled it with his secrecy.

He needed to talk to someone, but to whom? His parents? The very idea made him panic. Il Rak would mean well, but probably say something stupid, and Min Hee was so protective of her friend that there was no knowing how she'd react.

As usual, to his profound dismay, he found himself asking Yoo Jin for advice.

His rival, mystifying as always, had kept in touch. He Skyped once a week at precisely the same time, talked about his studies in Salzburg, asked about Rising Star, exchanged half-hearted insults, and very occasionally dropped hints about his relationship with Nae Il. Yoon Hoo never asked about her; alarmingly, Yoo Jin seemed to have a sixth sense about when he needed to hear these things.

"So, Yoo Jin-ah," he said, a little too lightly, in the late-night privacy of his apartment. "How would you feel if I said I plan to steal one of your admirers?"

Yoo Jin eyed him narrowly through the screen. _"That would depend on who it was."_

"How about a certain timpani player who still worships the ground you walk on?"

" _Ma Soo Min?"_

For just a moment, Yoo Jin's astonishment put a crack in that stoic façade. To his credit, however, he didn't say any of the various offensive things he could have said: for example, _That's disgusting._ Or: _If you're gay, why did you keep chasing after Nae Il all last year?_ Or: _That explains why you won't leave me alone._ Or: _What do you see in someone like him?_

Instead, after sitting motionless for so long Yoon Hoo wondered if the screen was frozen, Yoo Jin pulled himself together and said: _"Be careful."_

"What do you mean?"

" _He's a good, honest man. Even his flaws are upfront. He's not used to the mind games that you play."_

"Mind games? I resent that, Yoo Jin-ah. Living abroad hasn't improved your manners one bit."

" _Shut up. I mean it. Don't go after him unless you genuinely like him."_

"I do." _More than I'd ever say out loud._ "The question is, what does he think?"

Yoo Jin's advice, as always, was mercilessly blunt. _"So ask him. Either that, or get over it."_

"Brilliant as ever. Thanks a lot. No wonder he calls you Almighty Cha."

To his great frustration, Yoo Jin smiled. It really was inconvenient, not being able to hit someone via Skype.

" _He's not actually in love with me, you know. At least, not now. I think I was mostly a safe target to practice on."_

"So, uh … you think I have a chance?"

" _Maybe."_

Maybe. Coming from Yoo Jin, that was probably as close as you could get to an encouraging word.

Predictably, his rival pointed a ballpoint pen at him over the webcam and said: _"If you have time to worry about your love life, you should be preparing for your next concert."_

"If I want a lecture on how to run my orchestra, I'll ask Professor Stresemann, thank you very much."

But Yoon Hoo was smiling as he logged out of Skype. He had an idea.

It was late January. Valentine's Day was coming up.

/

On February 14, Soo Min ran up to Yoon Hoo in the hallway between classes, looked left and right to make sure nobody was watching, and sank into a ninety-degree bow.

"Please accept this," he said, holding an envelope straight out in front of him.

As soon as Yoon Hoo took it, Soo Min whisked himself away so fast, he might have been a hallucination if not for the proof of the envelope.

Yoon Hoo opened it then and there. It was a drawing – or rather two drawings.

The first one showed Yoon Hoo behind the conductor's podium, sweeping the air with his baton, looking tall and proud and (he thought) much handsomer than in real life. The second one showed him alone in a shadowy place, leaning against the wall, holding his left hand in his right one, with a look of pain on his face.

But the two versions of Lee Yoon Hoo were not separated. They stood back to back, like soldiers guarding each other in battle. As if the artist understood that you couldn't have one without the other. Darkness and light. Pain and joy.

There were no words. Yoon Hoo understood anyway.

He put the drawing back in its envelope and slid it inside a heavy bundle of sheet music inside his bag, to keep it safe.

/

Later in the rehearsal room, about to start the last run-through of the piece they were practicing, Yoon Hoo tapped the podium.

"From the top, please," he said. "Everyone except you, timpani."

"What?" Soo Min's face fell. "Why? Am I doing something wrong?"

"Yeah, why?" Min Hee glowered from behind her contrabass like a kitten behind a tree. "You've been picking on him for months, sunbae, and now this?"

Soo Min winced and made a shushing gesture, but she ignored him.

"Guys!" Il Rak jumped in with his concertmaster's sense of duty. "Calm down. I'm sure Yoon Hoo-sunbae's got a good reason. Once he explains what it is," with a pointed look at Yoon Hoo that implied, _it had better be good._

"I'll explain later, I promise." Yoon Hoo raised his arms, looking anywhere except at those disappointed faces. "Now – begin."

It was the sorriest excuse for a Valentine's Day serenade he'd heard in all his life. Min Hee's contrabass thundered over the rest like an avenging warrior. Il Rak's violin was thin and wavery. The brass instruments blared mockingly, not even bothering to fit in; those boys had been part of A orchestra once, and without Jung Si Won to keep them in check, they still looked down upon the former S members. Even the rest of the players, with less of a personal stake in the situation, were distracted and confused and did not exactly play at their best.

Soo Min sat with his eyes cast down and his shoulders bowed, twirling his mallets over and over. Where the strong, resonant beats of the timpani should have been, there was only silence.

They ran the piece all the way through. Yoon Hoo didn't stop to make a single correction.

"That doesn't sound right," he said once it was over. "Does it? Can anyone tell me why?"

There was a babble of argument and accusation, but Min Hee's voice rose high above the rest.

"How can it," she demanded, "When you're leaving Soo Min out?"

"Exactly," said Yoon Hoo.

The entire room fell silent.

Yoon Hoo stepped out from behind the podium.

"Percussion instruments," he said, "Are often underrated. I've heard people say that any idiot can play the drums. But that's not true. You heard what it sounds like when our timpani is missing. It's the heartbeat of the orchestra. Without it, the music dies."

He could feel that sense of unreality descending, just as it did before a performance. It wrapped around him like a layer of cotton wool, the only thing standing between him and a nervous breakdown. He had memorized this speech. He might not be able to draw like Soo Min, but he'd always been good with words.

"Every instrument is essential to the orchestra. But you, Soo Min-ah … you've essential to me. I'm in love with you."

He gathered up the nerve to look at the back of the room. Soo Min was standing, in his customary attitude, with his mallets on either side of his head. He wasn't smiling, but the pure awe and joy on his face almost made Yoon Hoo forget what he meant to say. Almost.

"Thank you so much for your drawing," he said. "Will you be my Valentine?"

And with that, his professional layer of calm melted away, leaving him utterly exposed.

He'd said it. He'd really said it. To Soo Min. To _everyone._

He'd expected Soo Min to react the way he usually did: on impulse. Either to run out of the room, or jump into Yoon Hoo's arms. But the younger boy threaded his way around his teammates' chairs with the dignity of a grown man, a man who didn't need to hurry, because he already had exactly what he wanted.

He stopped in front of Yoon Hoo and smiled.

"I will."

"I have one condition," said Yoon Hoo, in a whisper too low for anyone else to hear. "If you start calling me Almighty Lee, I swear, this will be over before it starts."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Soo Min whispered back. "Yoon Hoo-ya."

It was only up close you could see that the timpanist was trembling with joy, just the way he did after Rising Star had played its very best. And it was Yoon Hoo, for once, who acted on impulse and swept Soo Min into his arms.

It felt different from holding a woman, but no less wonderful. He buried his hand in Soo Min's soft curly hair and breathed in his spicy aftershave.

It took a while for them to remember that time hadn't stopped, and that there were, in fact, still other people in the room. It was an avalanche of applause and a loud whoop from Il Rak that finally called them back to reality and made them step apart. The concertmaster was standing on a chair, making rock star devil horns with both hands.

"Best Valentine's Day ever!" he boomed. "I'm so happy for you guys. Sunbae, I had no idea you had so much soul! Wait 'til I tell my Si Won!"

"Oh please," Soo Min clasped his hands and bounced on his feet. "Can I be the one to tell her? She's the first person I came out of the closet to. It would mean so much to me."

"Dude," Il Rak glanced between the two boys with good-natured irony, "When were you ever _in_ the closet?"

"That's what Si Won said!" Soo Min wrapped his arm around Yoon Hoo's shoulders in a gesture that was proud as well as loving.

Yoon Hoo never would have thought this was possible for two male lovers, standing together in a public space, being not only tolerated, but celebrated. He couldn't believe his luck.

The viola player was fanning herself with her score. "It's like a boys' love manhwa," she crooned. "Aw hell, why do all the cute ones have to be gay or taken?"

The two boys who played oboe and clarinet were standing apart and muttering among themselves, but even they didn't dare to disturb the occasion.

Min Hee planted herself in front of the couple with her hands on her hips. "If you break Soo Min's heart, I'll break your face," she informed Yoon Hoo cheerfully. "I could do that, you know. I have wicked upper body strength."

"I'll bear that in mind," said Yoon Hoo.

"You're so sweet, Mini Min Hee," said Soo Min, beaming, "Not to mention terrifying. Come here."

Min Hee insinuated herself between the two men with catlike skill. Il Rak piled on with another cheer. Before he knew it, Yoon Hoo found himself tangled up in a four-person group hug, losing track of whose arms were whose.

Cha Yoo Jin, at this point, would no doubt have thundered at them all to get away. But that was yet another difference between.

Lee Yoon Hoo never wanted moments like this to end.


End file.
